Oh Yes It Is!
by denise1
Summary: Companion to 'It's Not My Fault'


Oh Yes It Is!!

By

Denise

"He is going to die," Sam said, joining Daniel at the table he had commandeered in the corner of the commissary. Both she and he had come to the SGC Christmas Party more out of a sense of duty than a true desire to attend. Sam personally had not cared for the holidays since she was in her teens and Daniel shared her opinion.

Her first intention upon hearing about the party had been to simply 'forget' to go. 'Sorry, sir. That was today? Oh I am so sorry I missed it'. She'd even been practicing her stunned voice.

Those plans had changed however when the general sent out a carefully worded, thinly veiled invitation that pretty much made attendance mandatory. And if she had to attend, she wasn't going to endure it alone.

So, with one detour to grab a cowering archaeologist she'd showed up in the commissary a false 'gee aren't I glad to be here' smile pasted on her face. At worst she figured they could drink a little punch, make sure enough folks saw them there to tell the general that they had come, then they could both retreat to the safety of their labs. Too bad it hadn't worked out that way.

"Yeah eventually, but that really doesn't help us much now," he agreed, absently picking up her gift from 'Santa'.

The Barbie doll with almost regulation short hair was attired in a little camouflage outfit, complete down to a tiny helmet and a little plastic rifle. "She is sorta cute." He tried to stand the doll up but soon figured out that she wasn't capable of standing on her own since her pointed feet meant she was always standing on her toes even in the tiny combat boots she was wearing. "What's that?"

She shrugged and opened the small wooden footlocker that had come with the doll. "Oh my God," she muttered, pulling out a little set of desert fatigues, a dress uniform, and an exercise outfit with a very tiny tank top.

"Wow. That's incredible." He picked up one of the outfits careful not to lose any of the little accessories. "Look at all the detail. It even has your ribbons on it."

"NO!" He looked over and stifled a laugh as she drew out a little blue dress complete with pantaloons and headdress. "That son of a…"

"He has to be stopped," Janet declared plopping her gift down on the table and taking a seat.

"Janet?"

She pushed the box towards them. Sam set down the doll's dress and looked at it. "Operation? Wow. I didn't know they still made this. I had one when I was little." She picked up the tweezers and started when the buzzer went off. "Aah I thought.."

"It's supposed to go off if you touch the sides but this one is rigged. All you have to do is pick up the 'scalpel' and it buzzes," Janet explained with a sigh. "What'd you get Daniel?" she asked, taking the toy from Sam.

"Ooh, nothing." He tried to push the box aside. Janet made a grab for it. He feinted then moaned as Sam got her hands on it.

"Come on Daniel. It can't be that bad. And I showed you mine." Ignoring his protests she opened the box, revealing a little diorama. "This looks like…."

"Abydos," he confirmed.

"Wow. Look at all that detail. All those tiny people."

"Oh yeah," he muttered dusgustedly.

"What's that?" Janet asked pointing at a tiny figure on the side of a dune.

"That? That's me chasing my books down the dune after Kawalsky and Ferretti dumped my suitcase. And this? This is the mastage dragging yours truly across the desert and this is me doing the chicken dance," he ranted pointing out the tiny figures. "Fantastic isn't it?" Sam met Janet's gaze and worked hard to stifle her laughter. "Go ahead. Laugh," he said bitterly.

"What's the general say about this?" Janet asked staring at duo in the front of the room.

"The general's not here. He said something about rodeos and took some time off," Sam said, following her gaze. She still couldn't believe what she was seeing. Teal'c clad in a red Santa suit complete with pom-pom topped hat and curly toed shoes seated on a makeshift throne accompanied by Colonel O'Neill delightfully attired in a green tunic, bright green tights and a jaunty Robin Hood style cap.

"Which explains the dynamic duo up there," Janet quipped.

"This is Cassie's first Christmas isn't it?" Sam asked thoughtfully.

"Of course."

"And I seem to remember the colonel making some comment about a 'real Christmas'," she continued thoughtfully.

"Sam, I know that look. What are you up to?" Daniel asked. He'd come to know his friend pretty well in the past few months. Enough anyway to know that she hid a lively sense of humor and fun behind that façade of polite detachment.

"Me?" She asked innocently. "I'm not 'up to' anything. I just think that the colonel should keep his promise to show Cassie a genuine Earth Christmas. And it's up to us as his team members to help him do so," she said, a pleased, ornery look on her face.

"What exactly do you mean by a genuine Earth Christmas?" Janet asked, sensing that there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

"Well if he's so fascinated by the cheap and tawdry," she glanced at Sargent Siler gamely accepting a singing animatronic turkey from 'Santa' with a respectfully pained look on his face, "I say it's up to us to make sure he can uphold those high standards at home." Her eyes twinkled with anticipation. From the looks on the faces of the people in this room, she guessed they'd have no shortage of helpers.

"You know he did say it was all Teal'c's fault," Janet spoke up.

"Oh Please. Teal'c didn't even know about Christmas a few months ago. The colonel has to be egging him on. Probably some deep seated need to wear tights," she said.

"All I know for sure is that the SG-3 Marines are going to be SOOO sorry they missed this," Daniel said envisioning the fun the macho marines would have with a colonel in tights.

"They aren't missing much," Janet quipped.

"Janet?"

"What?" She asked innocently.

"Daniel?" Sam turned to her friend, eager for confirmation.

"Geez. I don't look," he said, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Sam rolled her eyes, turned back to Janet and started drumming her fingers on the table. "You can't make a statement like that and just let it go."

"All I can say is…he may be a colonel but he's not the highest ranking officer around here. You know," she said, changing the topic, "I was cleaning out the attic last week and found some really old decorations."

Sam pulled out pen and paper. "Let's see…where do we start?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack O'Neill tiredly drove home, more by instinct than anything else. He was tired…no he was beyond tired. This whole day, make that the whole week had been one seemingly endless nightmare.

First finding out that Teal'c has aspirations of becoming the Clark Griswald of the SGC, then having to spend the rest of the week helping the man purchase a gift for every single person on the SGC's duty rosters, and a few that weren't any more. Jack did get particular satisfaction out of sending a 'Big Billy Bass' to Samuels. After of course, Siler had worked a little magic and rigged the creature so it would never turn off…..ever.

Then today. Spending hours and hours spreading the holiday cheer …in tights. It was above and beyond the call of duty. Definitely Congressional Medal of Honor stuff.

Right now all he wanted to do was to take refuge in his nice private, Christmas Free house where he could ignore all this 'good will towards men' holiday crap, drown his embarrassment in a beer or ten and get the hell out of these tights. They were starting to chafe in some very critical areas.

As he got closer to his block he started to notice that the traffic was getting heavier. Not remembering any construction and thinking that maybe there'd been an accident, he simply merged into the slowly moving line of cars.

As he drove he thought back on some of the more memorable moments of the day, like the look on Doc Fraiser's face when she'd opened her gift. He sincerely hoped that she got the hint in the red circle with the slash through it over the toy's left knee. She was SO not getting her grubby fingers on his knee.

But the expression on her face had been nothing compared to Carter's when she opened her gift. He had to give credit where credit was due; she hid her homicidal tendencies well. He couldn't wait to see what she cooked up to get even with Teal'c.

He turned the corner to his street and groaned in disgust. Someone had gone and gotten in the Christmas Sprit, damn them.

Even from the end of the block he could see the Christmas lights shining like a beacon atop a lighthouse. This was great, just great. Who the hell was the moron? He thought all his neighbors were nice rational folks, not the obnoxious type. Last year there had been a lighted wreath or two, a few strings of lights tossed over some bushes, nothing spectacular.

But this? This was unacceptable. He tried to make out who the idiot was but he couldn't see past the seemingly endless stream of headlights.

Whoever the shameless attention grabbers were, they were dangerously close to his house. A fact that did nothing to improve his mood. Fantastic. Not only would he have flashing lights pestering him all night, he'd also have the noise of the ceaseless stream of idiots that had nothing better to do with their lives than waste gas driving around oohing and aahing like they'd never seen a freaking lightbulb before.

He muttered a few choice curses under his breath as he slammed on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the station wagon in front of him.

He followed the veritable sea of red lights in front of him feeling his stomach sink as he got closer and closer to the illuminated monstrosity…. That was his house.

In a state of shock he pulled into his driveway and stared out the windshield, still not believing what he was seeing. Every window and door was outlined in coordinating strings of lights. Perched on his roof were a lighted sleigh and nine tiny reindeer, the one in the lead with its requisite red nose. He followed a large neon arrow pointing at his chimney and choked at the sight of a pair of legs sticking out of the brick tube, wiggling as if Santa had taken a header down the chimney and gotten stuck.

Every tree and bush in his front yard was covered in thousands of multicolor lights. Strands of chaser lights lined the sidewalks shining so brilliantly that it had to be visible from space, or at least aircraft at 40,000 feet.

Other strings of lights were laid out on the ground blinking on and off with orchestrated efficiency. Frowning he stared at them until he saw the pattern. 'Happy Holidays', 'Feliz Navidad', and 'Happy Hanukkah' were spelled out in a graceful script with the lights.

A flash of movement caught his eyes and he stared in horror at his house, the inside of his house. Candles, wreaths or colored lights were in each window with a large Christmas tree in the large bay window of his living room. How the hell had they gotten INTO his house?

A fist pounding on his window pulled his attention from the light show. "Yo buddy. Move it on. You're blocking the view," a man said. Anger bubbling through the shock, Jack turned off his engine and exited his truck. "Hey. There's no parking here. It's private property," the man protested.

"Damn straight it is. It's MY property," Jack respond, stalking towards his front door his eyes scanning the mayhem in his yard. He had no idea how to turn all this stuff off. He'd just go throw the main and stay in the dark all night. His furnace was gas so he wouldn't freeze.

"Yours? Wow. Great. Freddy get over here! This is fantastic. We were hoping we could get a hold of you," the man enthused, trailing Jack like a puppy following a dripping trash bag.

The next think Jack knew he was surrounded by people, a bright light hitting him right between the eyes.

"This is such a great idea!"

"We didn't even notice you doing all this."

"This is amazing! Such talent."

"Oh my God Francine, he's wearing tights!"

Jack's eyes darted from face to face trying to process it all.

"So aah…What did you say your name was?" The reporter asked.

"I didn't," Jack growled, hoping for a menacing, I can kill you with my bare hands voice.

"It's O'Neill."

"With two L's"

Recognizing the voices Jack turned to see the rest of his team plus Doctor Fraiser and Cassandra walking towards him. "What the.." Jack bit his lip at the last second remembering the TV cameras. "This is SUCH a surprise," he said meaningfully through gritted teeth.

"Yes sir. I know. It turned out so much better than planned," Sam said loudly, a satisfied look on her face.

"It certainly exceeded our expectations," Daniel agreed.

"Indeed O'Neill. I find this display most pleasing."

"Pleasing? It's not pleasing it's…"

"Absolutely spectacular," Janet butted in.

"This is so fantastic Colonel Jack!" Cassandra enthused staring wide eyed at the lights.

"Ooh and you are?" the reporter asked sensing a story. And even if there wasn't one, people were suckers for kids.

"Cassandra."

"Do you like Christmas Lights?"

"It's her first Christmas," Daniel spoke up.

"In Colorado," Sam interjected, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Really? Where are you from?"

"Aah Toronto. We don't have anything like this in Toronto."

"Colonel O'Neill did this just for her," Janet spoke up.

"I did?"

"Indeed O'Neill. Did you not say you desired to show Cassandra Fraiser a 'real Christmas'?"

"So…You did this all just for her?" The reporter asked; her heart fluttering at the thought of a good feel-good smarmy story. If it were a slow enough news day maybe the networks would even pick it up.

"He sure did," Daniel said, throwing his arm over Jack's shoulder. "He loves kids."

"And this?" The reporter gestured towards Jack's bright green outfit.

"He is my elf," Teal'c intoned regally.

"Your elf?" The reporter eyed Teal'c from toe to head, her eyes widening appreciatively.

"Every Santa needs an elf," he said majestically crossing his arms over his massive chest.

Jack silently listened to the conversation swirling around him. A bad dream. It had to be a bad, bad dream.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" Jack stood at the threshold to General Hammond's office.

"Aah yes Jack. Come in, come in," The older man invited graciously. Was it his imagination or was the man's Texas twang a bit more pronounced? "I hear there was a little excitement yesterday?"

"Sir?"

"Something about a party?"

"Ooh. That. I can explain that sir. You see Teal'c…"

"I hear I invited people to this party?"

"You? No. Well yes sir. You see some people weren't going to come and…it was all meant in the holiday spirit sir," Jack said. Dang straight he made everyone come, if he had to be cheerful than they were going to be too, or spend time in the brig.

"There seems to be a lot of that going around."

"Sir?"

"Holiday spirit. I just got off the phone with General Ryan."

"General…THE General Ryan?"

"It seems he saw a news report last night, something about Christmas lights."

"Ooh. I can explain that sir. Well really I can't totally. You see it's not my fault."

"It seems that General Ryan was most impressed with what he saw. Slightly disturbed but impressed."

"I mean I really had nothing…He was sir?"

"He's impressed with anything that shows the Air Force in a good light. And an Air Force officer who decorates his home so enthusiastically just to show a child a good time and in a story that gets picked up on the national news no less, gets his attention."

"National news?" Jack's heart sank. No. Not that.

"Yes. Apparently the local affiliate send a tape of your house to the network. I hear it was shown on one hundred and sixty-seven stations."

"One hundred…."

"Sixty seven." Hammond handed Jack a piece of paper. "I have your new assignment colonel."

"New? I'm getting reassigned?"

"Not exactly. You see General Ryan has always been…less than thrilled that the Marines sponsor the Toys for Tots. Not the program mind you. That he supports. It's the whole idea that a bunch of Jar…Marines are known for their generosity during the Christmas season while the Air Force…well the limit of our participation seems to be using NORAD to track Santa each Christmas Eve. He sees this as his chance to start a new program."

"New program?"

"Operation: First Christmas."

"Operation: First…."

"Each Christmas there will be a designated officer on each air base who will make sure that a child's first Christmas is his or her's best Christmas. We're not talking about babies here Jack; we're talking about older children, like Cassandra. Refugees or adoptees."

"That sounds like a great idea sir but…What does that have to do with me?"

"You're the national spokesperson."

"Spokes…Sir wouldn't…"

"It's non-negotiable Jack. You have an interview with Katie Couric at 0600 tomorrow."

"0600? General, sir, you know me. I'm not spokesman material," Jack pleaded.

"You should have thought of that before you got yourself on national TV son. Ooh and Jack, for god's sake don't wear tights. You'll scare the children."

Fin


End file.
